An Honourable Man
by Jayneysuk
Summary: It was just another case, three bodies and a request for the BAU to advise. They were just another broken resolution, a few hours between dusk and dawn that changed everything. A case and broken resolution brought them to this.
1. Chapter 1

Title: An Honourable Man

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/?

Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up.

Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this.

Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode four so anything up to there is fair game.

Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way.

_____________________

**An Honourable Man**

**Part One**

Emily found herself standing by the door to his hospital room, her eyes drawn to the cluster of tubes keeping him alive and the steady beat of his heart on the monitor.

The fact that he was alive was a miracle and the result of good luck and a group of determined people who refused to give up. It had been twelve hours since they had physically dragged him out of the water, and she had yet to see him conscious. The doctors said it was normal, not unexpected, that his body needed time to heal and this was the perfect way for it to do it. Emily thought it sounded a little contrite and she had focused on the body language, trying to read sincerity or lies or condescension. Her highly honed skills had failed her and now she understood what it was like to be the family of a victim and to not know what was coming.

The doctor had finally walked away, leaving her alone in the corridor, debating what to do next. Her head told her to call the team, her heart convinced her to go to him.

"He'll be out for a while. Can I get you something?" the nurse asked as she moved effortlessly around the bed, checking his vitals and tucking the crisp white bed sheets in around him.

Emily shook her head as she crossed the room and moved the solitary visitor's chair closer to the bed. She lingered a moment to stare at him and the bare upper torso that revealed nothing of the ordeal he had suffered at the hands of the killing team.

"We'll, I'm just down the hall if you need . . ." the petite dark haired nurse offered, trailing off when she realised the young woman was no longer listening.

As she continued to watch him, Emily thought, hoped even, that he was dreaming as his eyes flickered beneath the lids. She wondered too what he would dream of - the cases that were all too integral to his life, the family he had lost to the job or the life he tried to construct away from the team. Briefly her thoughts turned to the team and the interviews she should be part of, and to Garcia, who was on the other side of the country, isolated in her fear, waiting for good news, because she needed something good to hold onto. Instead Emily was here, at the hospital, and had been since she had climbed in the ambulance and insisted on staying until they knew something.

As Emily's hand reached out to cover his she pulled it back, hesitant about her presence and her role in his life.

"You could try and talk to him. Your voice might be what he needs," a voice suggested from the door.

Emily turned to acknowledge their presence. "We don't . . . I mean . . . What should I say?" she asked nervously, her body stiffening.

"Anything."

Emily turned back to the man in the bed. "Hey, it's me." It wasn't exactly the most inspiring thing she had ever said to him, and it made her consider which me he would truly want sitting by his bedside, willing him to live.

He didn't stir.

"You know, this is getting old. You're supposed to be awake now so I can get mad at you. And don't think the longer this takes the more forgiving I'm gonna be because hell no, I'm pretty mad at you." So it was irrational, but she seemed to be verging on irrational quite a lot recently where he was concerned.

Emily had once joked to Reid about her list of things not to do again, which at the time involved staying in out of the way motels. But this, this was on it too. Well kind of. Along with not having one night stands, not sleeping with her colleagues, an important non negotiable one when you worked for the FBI, and not falling in love with a one night stand. She would have to debate the love part later but the fact she had walked away from the case to be at the hospital suggested it was more than the fact she worked with him. Anyway she had broken all three of her own rules sometime between Wednesday night and Thursday morning and it was destined to go wrong. The fact he was lying in a hospital bed attested to that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews so far, very much appreciated. **

**I should have said in the previous chapter that Criminal Minds and it's characters do not belong to me.**

**An Honourable Man**

**Part Two**

_Seven Days Earlier_

It was Saturday night, not even that late, and Emily was curled up on her sofa, reading a book. Earlier she had tried the television, channel hopping through news shows and comedies which had long seen their funny days before deciding to finally attempt to finish the book that had been sat on her bedside table for months. Most people, she supposed wouldn't want to spend their free time reading about serial killers and psychopaths, but she put it down to research and an author that captivated her. The only reason she hadn't finished it before was the abundance of the real thing of late.

Except for the last two days when the team had been in the office, studying case files and taking conference calls, all anxiously expecting the phone to ring and yet another case to land on the desk. Finally, Hotch had sent everyone home for some down time.

Of course Emily had reached her Brownstone and realised she had no idea what to do. Changing into sweat pants and a tank top, that was probably a little too tight for anywhere but her home, she had roamed the building, completing chores and debating whether to call a friend and hit a bar. Instead she had cobbled together dinner from the depths of her freezer because these days she didn't really shop. If it couldn't be frozen or didn't come in a tin she didn't buy it. Afterwards she had retired to the couch with a glass of wine and a hundred pages of the most sensationalist murder.

As she reached for her glass and lifted it to her lips her phone rang and she didn't need to pick it up to know that it was JJ. Emily wasn't psychic but these days if it wasn't one of the team, her phone barely rang. Not that it bothered her that much. It was a lot easier than being the ambassador's daughter and having to play nice with her parent's friends. Closing her book with a sigh, she picked up the phone from the ornate coffee table. "Hey J.J," she said with a smile.

"Hey." If she was surprised by the greeting she didn't show it, instead launching into her reason for calling. "Sorry to do this to you, especially on a Saturday night," J.J. started, "but three bodies have turned up in Washington State and the locals have asked for our help."

"No worries." Emily glanced at the glass of chardonnay and knew that it was heading down the sink.

"Do you need to apologise to your date?" J.J. asked. She was secretly intrigued by her colleagues lives, or lack of, she supposed. Occasionally they all went for a beer, or to the Boardroom for lunch but they weren't exactly friends who shared their private life. Garcia had been at home with Kevin when she called, the giggling a preclude to what she could only imagine, and Hotch had been heading back from seeing Jack. Emily, well she hoped her friend had a life, if only so she could live vicariously through her.

"I don't think Rossi will mind," Emily deadpanned, waiting for, and not being disappointed by the reaction.

"Oh, okay. . ." she stammered, her eyebrow twitching as an image came to mind. "I'm sorry . . . Look. . ."

"I'm kidding, J.J.. I'm reading his book, or at least I've been trying to for weeks. I can be at the office in twenty minutes," Emily explained, rising to her feet and glancing down at her outfit. "Actually better make that thirty. I need to change."

J.J. paused at the other end of the line, taking in her own attire. When she'd been recalled to the office she'd been at home with Will and Henry, watching TV and nursing her little boy. It hadn't occurred to her to change, instead she had thrown on a jacket and headed in. "I spoke to Hotch. We're heading straight to the air strip, so head there. I'll brief on the plane." Once she had phoned the others, she would have chance to raid her go bag and find something more appropriate rather than jeans and the T-shirt splattered in baby drool. "I need to round up the others."

"Good luck with that," Emily said, her voice laced with mirth, knowing full well that at least one of her team mates would be out enjoying themselves.

"Well it won't be the first time I have interrupted Morgan infraganti. I'll see you on the plane." J.J. hung up and dialled the next number as she waved the file in her hand at one of the junior agents and pointed to the photocopier.

Emily shook her head, trying to dispel an image, which would on any other night aid in her quest for a good night's sleep, but tonight was inappropriate. She headed up the stairs to the master bedroom, shedding her clothes as she went, finally tossing them onto the newly upholstered chair, a gift from her mother, in the corner of the room. Opening the closet door she selected a pair of black trousers and a dark blouse, her standard uniform for work. Pulling her go bag from under the bed she checked the contents before adding a handful of underwear and two fresh tops. Whenever a case came up they never knew how long they would be away and she was getting tired of having to wash her underwear by hand. It took her less than ten minutes before she was running down the stairs and out of the apartment, not sure when she was going to return, the glass and book abandoned on the table.

______________________

Emily liked the jet and it's confined space with the controlled air temperature, and chairs that you could curl up in and sleep, and still wake up in and feel mildly refreshed. It was a place of business yet somewhere where they never had to feel inferior, where everyone had a place to be heard. The mood was so often determined by where they sat, and by the two senior agents. This time as so many others, Morgan and Reid had taken seats opposite each other, briefing notes spread out over the table between them. J.J. preferred the couch, because when she could she liked to nap but she was in case mood, moving about the plane. Hotch had chosen one of the two chairs that isolated him, Rossi opposite him, neither looking annoyed by the call to work, their minds already looking for the three things that would connect the cases. There would be no fun and games or silly banter on this flight, that much was guaranteed. Tonight, Emily dropped onto one end of the couch as J.J. handed out copies of the files to everyone.

"There have been three bodies so far. The most recent turned up this afternoon, which is when they decided to call us," J.J. explained, handing out copies of the files that had been emailed over. "All men, all in their late forties early fifties, all professional."

"Wow, there's hardly a mark on them," Reid commented dryly, studying each photo in turn and searching for a cause of death.

"John Whitford was found on the 22nd of last month. He was 45, divorced and a prosecutor. The autopsy confirmed drowning," J.J. explained, as they all studied the photographs. "Peter Moretti. 53. Italian American. Divorced four times." She glanced at Rossi with a small smile, asking a silent question.

Rossi shrugged his shoulders. "We're a catch, and then they find out we're not so much of a catch."

J.J. glanced down at her notes, wondering why three women had turned their backs on a man's who's only fault was tenacity. "He was an accountant."

"When did they turn up the body?" Rossi asked, his notebook open and his pen poised.

"1st of the month."

"Any connections between them. Someone who had run ins with them?" Emily queried, knowing that she was expecting too much. "Attorney. Accountant?"

"Not so far but the locals are still looking into the backgrounds. I thought Garcia might have better luck."

Hotch nodded. "Call her when we land."

"Peter Moretti was suffocated," J.J. explained, dropping into the seat next to Reid. "The most recent is Robin Green, 48, divorced. Cause of death is pending as he won't be autopsied until the morning."

Hotch raised his head, his eyes fixing on hers intensely, asking an obvious question.

"They're having to find a coroner from another jurisdiction. He was the coroner."

The plane rocked slightly and the passengers gripped the seats as they waited for the jet to steady itself. Turbulence was something they had all gotten accustomed to flying in a small plane. It didn't make it any less frightening in the heat of the moment.

"Ok, I'll see if they want as to fly someone in," Hotch announced, his tone never changing.

Morgan laid the open file on the table as placed his hands on top of it. "All three have good jobs, divorced and were fully dressed when they were found. He obviously has a type."

"The dump sites are all remote. Do we think dump sites versus murder scenes?" Rossi asked, turning his attention to the other occupants of the plane.

"It was a few days between them going missing and being found," J.J. offered. "Could mean he's keeping them somewhere."

"How is he picking them?

"We need a full background."

"Anything in the bodies about sexual activity?"

The questions and comments continued as they tried to decipher a motive, the team working as they so often did as one brain.

"Well we definitely need more information," Hotch announced, rubbing his hand across his face. "So on that note, J.J. head straight to the precinct and find out what the media knows, whether they're putting together the pieces, and call Garcia. Morgan and I will head to the latest dump site. It's fresh. Might tell us something."

"Emily and I will take his apartment," Rossi offered, looking to the junior agent for acquiesce.

"In that case Reid, you take one of the locals and head to the previous scenes," Hotch continued, oblivious to his team's dismay.

"You realise it's going to be one am when we land," Rossi commented, adjusting his watch.

Aaron Hotcher was a smart man but the constant flying and time zones did little for his body clock, and he couldn't fathom exactly how many days he'd lost in the process. His plan was therefore to work, preferably with the odd stop for coffee, which meant he often forgot that other people needed sleep. "In that case, everyone head to the hotel and try and get your heads down for a few hours. We're going to have to get up to speed pretty fast on this one," Hotch announced, picking up the files and moving to the chair at the back of the plane, fully intent on ignoring his own advice.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay in updating but my muse is playing up. Hopefully next month things will be easier. Reviews and suggestions always welcome.

**An Honourable Man**

**Part Three**

_It didn't matter whether it was one am or one pm, when the BAU arrived in a town everyone knew about it. The first indication was the private jet whirring overhead then the black SUVs heading in convoy down the main thoroughfare. The vehicles, although less than discreet, were practical and allowed the agents to go anywhere they needed, which at a little after one am was to the hotel._

_The Main Street Hotel looked very much like every other hotel they had stayed in, although as long as there was a bed and a working shower no one really cared where they stayed. The lobby was deserted at the early hour as the six agents made their way wearily through the doors. _

"_Get some sleep and we'll meet at seven," Hotch said, glancing around out of habit. There really was no one to watch their movements other than the young clerk, who looked like they had been dragged from bed to greet them. "There's a coffee shop next door so we can meet there."_

_J.J. continued to half listen as she filled in the requisite paperwork and answered what seemed like an endless stream of questions._

"_As for vehicles, Dave, you have one set of keys, I'll take one and Reid, you can have the third. We're head straight out from here." _

""_We're on the second floor, out of the elevator ,turn right," J.J. announced, rejoining the group, handing out key cards. "Cassie said to call down if we need anything, but I think she was looking at Morgan when she said it." She smirked at her colleague and he turned to grin at the young clerk. _

"_Did you organize a wake up call?"_

_J.J. nodded. "Yes, for everyone, and the coffee shop opens at seven."_

_Hotch nodded and headed towards the elevator. "Get some sleep, everyone."_

_Emily pressed the elevator call button while she waited for the others to join her. The ride was silent as they all thought about the few hours of sleep and the day ahead. When the elevator pinged open, the team followed the dimly lit corridor to the six rooms at the far end. They said goodnight, their voices echoing as key cards opened doors and they disappeared inside._

_Emily surveyed her room, much as she would the scene - the dark factory made mahogany bed, the small round hardwood table beside the window for cosy breakfasts that she would never have, the faux mahogany wardrobe she would never use, and the less than pristine white bathroom suite. After a while hotels became generic, which was probably why she preferred to spend vacations at home since joining the BAU. Emily dropped her ready bag on the floor and tucked her gun beneath her pillow before she stripped to her underwear. The bed yielded to her body and she was asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow. _

________________________________

_The pounding on the door dragged Emily her from her slumber and it took her a few seconds before she remembered where she was. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stumbled from the bed and crossed the room. Shielding her body from view, she tentatively opened the door before she remembered where her gun was and the fact she could be dead before the others could respond to her screaming. The person she found herself face to face with was not who she expected._

"_I brought you coffee, white, no sugar," he said, smiling despite the inconvenience. "The others have already headed out so I'll be waiting in the lobby." Rossi waited for her to say something, his smile widening as he realised why she was so coy. "Or I'll wait here."_

_Emily continued to stare at him, oblivious to her disarray. _

"_We're going to the apartment of the latest victim," he offered, his eyes drawn to her tangled mess of long dark hair and swollen bottom lip, as she nibbled it in confusion. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip as if by it's own accord._

_She silently swore. "I'll be ten minutes." She reached around the door and grabbed his wrist, turning it over to glance at his watch. "Damn."_

"_You slept through the wake up call," he offered matter-of-factly, inching his body sideways to peer around the door, hoping to finally reconcile his imagination with what the young agent really wore to bed. _

_Emily moved back behind the door, blocking his view and glaring at him. What she needed was strong coffee, a tepid shower and about twenty minutes to apply the make up that would conceal the dark circles she knew would be beneath her eyes. What she didn't need was the legendary David Rossi getting one up on her._

"_Take as long as you need, I'll pick up a paper and wait in the lobby." David passed the Styrofoam cup through the small gap in the doorway and turned to walk away. _

"_Rossi, how much trouble am I in?" Emily asked, causing him to turn back. The last thing she wanted was to be in trouble with Hotch and have to face his wrath. _

"_You're not. I told Hotch you were making calls, locating keys."_

_She gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Dave." _

"_You can return the favour later," he said, his smile, she thought suggesting other ways she could make it up to him._

"_In your dreams," she muttered as she closed the door and took her first hit of coffee of the day, wishing it was stronger._

_________________________________

_Emily had managed to be ready and in the lobby in twenty minutes, only to find him engrossed in a newspaper, seemingly oblivious to how long she had taken. When he had finally noticed her, Dave had folded his paper and ushered her wordlessly to the car. The thirty minute drive had taken them to out of the small town, through the suburbs of Seattle to an area of development and high rise apartments. The doorman had been waiting for them._

"_Do you need me to wait?" the elderly doorman asked, unlocking the door and stepping back to allow them access. _

"_We'll come find you when we're done," Rossi answered for them both, quickly moving back towards the door and edging the inquisitive gentleman out. The last thing Rossi needed was someone rushing to the press with a story. "We shouldn't be more than an hour at most." _

_Once the door was firmly closed, the two agents slipped on matching pairs of white gloves and began to move through the apartment. On first glance the large space told them little about who had been living there. The walls were painted in creams and mushrooms, the deep mushroom drapes making the windows seem much smaller than they were, sapping light from the one room apartment._

"_Cold and emotionless," Rossi commented dryly, causing Emily a moment's discomfort._

"_I apologised for that," she said, "and got a lecture for the privilege."_

"_And I apologized for that." _

_And he had, turning up at Emily's desk the next morning carrying fresh expensive Italian coffee and a pastry to die for. "But you're right," Emily conceded. "This apartment has the hallmark of someone distant, cold and whose home is somewhere to sleep." She moved around the small kitchen area, opening cupboards. The owner obviously had money, and wasn't adverse to spending it, and had a penchant for the finer things in life. The freezer was well stocked with ice, the bar with expensive blended scotch. _

"_He wasn't home much. He certainly didn't eat here. Maybe to shower and sleep," Emily commented, opening the small teak bureau. "Dave?" she called, when he hadn't spoken in a few minutes._

_There was something uncomfortable about going through someone's personal belongings. It was a necessary evil about the job and something which could tell them a great deal about the person's behaviour. "I think he collects condoms," Dave said, holding up a handful._

"_Careful and prepared. Says he's someone looking for no strings." _

_Dave continued to move around the bedroom area of the apartment. The bed was large, built of solid hardwood, and covered in pillows and a faux fur throw. He opened the closet and found it full of tailored suits and shirts still in their packaging. His eyes continued to search the room, falling on Emily as looked through his DVD collection. "What else strikes you about this apartment?" he asked, walking back towards the centre of the room._

_Emily glanced around, her eyes taking in everything but unsure what he was angling for._

"_Think of your own place for a minute." She considered the house she lived in, with it's panoramic view of DC. It had the same open space feel about it, the same empty fridge but it was cluttered with belongings. Every cupboard contained memories collected over her thirty five plus years, while the surfaces were filled with photos and ornaments. The apartment contained impressions of her._

"_It's not a home. No photos, no papers, the bureau only contains the most recent bills. It's like a show home."_

_Dave nodded. "It's somewhere to bring the ladies. It says I have money, status, security. It tells them it's his bachelor pad and he's not looking for commitment." Rossi briefly wondered if his home said the same about him, although commitment had never been his problem._

"_He's saying I have money, I can pull women, I'm a throw back to the sixties." Her lips twitched up into a smile and her eyes seemed to dance a little._

_Rossi rose an eyebrow in confusion._

"_The silk sheets," she stated, gesturing to the bed._

"_You don't like silk sheets?" _

"_You have them?" She tried to hold herself in check but even she couldn't hide the hint of incredulity in her voice. It wasn't how she imagined his bedroom in those moments when she broke the cardinal rule and profiled her colleagues. _

_He looked almost horrified. "No, I thought women were supposed to like the feel of them or something." At the look on her face he could see she was unconvinced. "There's nothing here to tell us why or even how," Rossi said, glancing around the apartment. "We should probably head back to the station."_

_Emily removed her gloves and stuffed them in her pocket as they made their way out of the apartment, locking the door behind them. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Title: An Honourable Man**_

_**Pairing: Emily Prentiss/?**_

_**Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up.**_

_**Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this.**_

_**Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode four so anything up to there is fair game.**_

_**Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way. **_

_**Part Four**_

_When Rossi and Prentiss arrived back at the local police department, there was no sign of the rest of the team. They walked through the doors, flashing their badges at the young trooper on the front desk, and finally located J.J. who was talking on the phone. She held up her hand and they waited for her to finish the conversation, each of them scanning the room, making mental notes. _

_J.J. finally hung up and closed her cell. "The press are on the scent, or at least one of them is. The fact it's Sunday gives me a little room but they have a deadline too."_

"_You can handle them," Rossi offered with a smile. _

"_That's what they pay me for." She slid off the desk and began to walk them towards the small office they had been assigned for the duration. "What did you get at the apartment?"_

"_Not much," Emily acknowledged. "The place was like a show home."_

"_I haven't heard from the others so I'm guessing they're still at the crime scenes," J.J. said, coming to a halt in the doorway._

_Rossi scanned the room as the two women continued to wonder the whereabouts of the rest of the team. "Who's in charge?"_

"_That would be Officer Newstead. He took a ride out with Spence. Told me to set everything up and if there was anything I needed. . ." She rose her hands in the air and indicated the four young officers._

"_Nice," Emily grinned. "There's suddenly a whole torrent of things I need."_

"_Shall we get started with the board," Rossi suggested gruffly, not liking the way his two colleagues were sizing up the officers. _

"_Don't worry, Dave, we wouldn't swap you for anyone," J.J offered, stroking his arm and glancing at her cell phone as it began to vibrate. "I need to take this." She began to pace the room, her hands gesturing as she talked into her phone._

"_I'll get the coffee," Emily said, heading in search of one of the officers while Dave positioned himself in front of the board and the three photos tacked to it. "Then we can make a start on the board."_

_Dave nodded absently, his attention again focused completely on the case as he picked up a pen and began to make notes on the white board._

________________________

"_I have some things I need to take care of. If you need me, I'll be at my desk," Newstead said, pulling the door closed firmly behind him._

_The team had finally all arrived and were gathered around the small round table, waiting for Hotch to begin. _

"_Before we get to the crime scenes, have we got cause of death for Robin Green," he asked, making his way to stand in front of the board._

_J.J. nodded, "I just got off the phone with the coroner. He wants to run a few more tests but it looks like dehydration."_

"_How do you die from dehydration?" Garcia asked, her voice carrying through the speaker phone on the table._

"_He thinks it was salt poisoning. The unsub gave him copious amounts of salt and trace amounts of water," J.J. explained, glancing down at her notes._

_Rossi rose to his feet and stood against the wall. "Drowning, suffocation, dehydration. We're talking slow, painful deaths with the victims gasping for air, begging for water. We're looking at a sadist."_

"_Who enjoys watching them die," Emily concluded. "But not it's sexual. There were no indicators on any of the bodies to suggest they were penetrated."_

"_Unless the death is how he gets off," Morgan suggested. "Are we looking at a thrill killer who's thrill is watching them suffer?"_

"_Robert Hansen took his victims to a secluded area, and then let them loose so he could hunt and kill them," Reid reminded. "He chronicled every chase in detail but barely detailed anything about his victims."_

_They waited for him to add something more, when he didn't say anything for a few minutes, Rossi spoke, his words said with certainty. "I think we're talking dump sites versus murder scenes, he's killing them somewhere else."_

"_What did you get at the dump site?" _

_Morgan shrugged, "The unsub is either local or has scouted his dump site. We're talking well off the main road on an old logging trail. Two local kids were planning a little extra circular activity and came across more than they planned."_

"_A little abstinence in their future then," Emily said, a grim smile on her face._

"_Same is true of the other two sites, well off the main road on long deserted tracks," Reid announced. "Tire tracks were obliterated by the rain, and bodies found by accident."_

"_Have the locals run the witnesses?" Hotch asked, his attention on no one in particular. _

_Garcia's voice once more drifted through the phone line. "Upstanding citizens, no parking tickets, born and raised in Seattle."_

"_OK, just to be sure, Morgan, Reid head out and speak to them this afternoon. See if there's anything else they remember." Hotch turned to look at the board. "Anything from the apartment?"_

"_Prentiss thinks he was a throw back to the sixties," Rossi said, a bemused look on his face._

_Emily swatted his arm. "All I said was he had silk sheets!"_

"_Seriously?" Garcia asked. _

"_Anyway," Rossi interrupted, noting the perturbed look cross the Unit Chief's face. "It was a bachelor pad, somewhere to take a one night stand, not a girlfriend. He wasn't looking for commitment and I doubt he ever paid for sex."_

"_What's the significance of them being divorced?" J.J. asked perplexed, her mind racing to similar cases. "Garcia couldn't find anything to suggest they abandoned their kids. In fact the staff all described them as devoted fathers."_

_Garcia continued to tap at her keyboard while she listened in. "Credit card receipts suggested they took the kids out every weekend. Moretti finished early every Wednesday to watch his son's game. Whitford was visiting colleges with his kid."_

"_Maybe it has more to do with them being single and available," Emily commented, turning to look at the man sitting beside her, causing the others to do the same. "Peter's secretary described him as a player. Robin's apartment certainly gave that impression."_

"_Why does everyone always look at me when we talk about players?" Derek moaned._

"_It's because the rest of us live a life of celibacy," Rossi interjected, earning himself some raised eyebrows._

"_Well clearly J.J.'s getting some," Derek scoffed, hoping to deflect the situation and failing miserably._

"_Yeah right, new baby does not equal romance."_

_Hotch allowed the banter to continue for a few minutes, knowing that whenever they veered off they always managed to return to the case at hand. His eyes locked with Rossi's and the older man cleared his throat._

"_So we have an unsub who preys on men who like having a good time. We could be looking at someone who's insecure," Emily offered, stretching her arms and shifting position._

"_Jealous of those who are successful, outgoing . . ." Reid continued._

"_So why those three in a city of millions?" Garcia asked. "Don't they normal have comfort zones?"_

"_Well, baby girl, you've been paying attention," Morgan grinned._

"_His comfort zone may be the whole city, although they do tend to stay away from where they live," Reid shrugged. "As for how he's picking them. There was a serial killer in the eighties who picked his victims because he liked their voices. He'd then stalk them, until he eventually stabbed them through the vocal cords," Reid explained, his voice as normal as ever despite the image._

"_So far they have nothing in common. They're from separate suburbs, use different contractors, their offices are across the city from each other," Garcia acknowledged._

"_What about telesales?" Rossi asked. "Maybe the guy sells insurance, phone contracts."_

"_Garcia, why don't you run a chase on their incoming calls, see if anything pops up," Hotch instructed, finally taking his seat at the table._

_The sound of Garcia's fingers hitting keys echoed down the phone line as she searched months of data in a matter of minutes._

"_In the meanwhile we need to speak to the ex wives. Sounds like something up your alley, Dave," Hotch said with a small smile, "why don't you take J.J. and visit Mrs. Moretti, Prentiss and I will speak to Mrs. Whitford. I think we should leave Mrs Green a while. We'll can meet back here later."_

____________________________________

_There was always a fine line to work between working around the clock and having highly strung exhausted agents, and stopping at a reasonable hour and making sure the team were fit for duty. It also depended on his mood and how frustrated he was. For once Hotch was in a good mood and as there was little more they could do until normal office hours, he decided they should call it a day. "It's six thirty, Dave," Hotch said, the phone to his ear as Prentiss tried to negotiate the traffic. "There's a diner across the street from the department so why don't we meet up there, grab some dinner and get an early night?"_

"_I'd kill for a bath," Emily announced, indicating and pulling over into the empty lane. "What?" she asked, glancing at Hotch and catching his pointed look. "I was just saying."_

"_Do you actually need to voice everything you're thinking?"_

"_Yeah," she nodded, grinning. _

_Hotch rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the call._

"_J.J. says she'll meet us there," Dave said, smiling as the young blond checked her watch. "I think she has a young man or two she wants to talk to. You'll talk to Morgan."_

"_My next call. Can you call and tell Garcia to call it a night, if she hasn't already."_

"_Consider it done."_

_Hotch listened to the drone of the dead tone as his friend hung up._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Sorry for the delay in posting but real life keeps getting in the way. Reviews make me write faster.**_

_**Title: An Honourable Man**_

_**Pairing: Emily Prentiss/?**_

_**Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up.**_

**_Disclaimers: The characters of CM are not mine, I just take them out to play. _**

_**Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this.**_

_**Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode four so anything up to there is fair game.**_

_**Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way. **_

**Part Five**

_Monday morning was heralded in with a storm, lightning casting ivory streaks across the charcoal grey sky while thunder rumbled through the early morning air. The team awoke early to rain pelting against the window panes and the wind blowing through the window frames. It seemed the perfect accompliment to everyone's mood. After dinner the previous evening the team had headed to bed, all exhausted, their bodies still tuned to DC time. The dinner itself had been quieter than normal, no one really feeling up to making small talk, and with no new information on the case there was little to debate. The food had been less than gourmet, a little too greasy and heavy for people who barely ate most days, leaving more than one of them a little uncomfortable._

_Showered and dressed thanks to nature's alarm, Rossi was already on his third cup of coffee when Emily and J.J. appeared in the coffee shop, both bleary eyed. The rest of the team arrived in drabs over the next half hour until the whole team were commandeering two tables. Over breakfast they discussed strategies, Hotch identifying tasks for the day as Rossi sat making notes in his little book. A little more awake and less lethargic the team divided up as they so often did, Rossi and Prentiss in one car heading to the accountant's firm, ready to interview witnesses, Reid and J.J. in another heading for the morgue, leaving Morgan and Hotch in the third. _

_It had taken longer than any of them had expected, lunch forgotten as they spent the day in conference rooms, carrying out interviews with colleagues of the victims. It was a laborious process but one that was necessary when it was still so incomprehensible how three men could disappear seemingly without a trace and turn up dead. _

_It was late afternoon when they returned to the small police department, the sky having turned dark and purple as morning turned to afternoon, lightning and thunder briefly flickering across the sky as they gathered once more in the conference room. _

_J.J. disappeared briefly from the room and came back with a coffee pot and Styrofoam cups. The room was colder, the murkiness outside dragging light from the room while crime scene photos on the table added a chill to the air. She shivered as she began to arrange the cups on the wooden slab and pour the steaming liquid into each._

"_You're on speaker phone," Morgan said as Garcia answered the phone._

"_Hands busy, sugar?" the analyst teased, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she brought up a new screen._

_Hotch cleared his throat to let her know they weren't alone although it had never, and probably never would stop her. "So, do we have enough for a profile?" he asked, looking at each member of his team. _

"_He's white. Victimology supports that," Morgan began. "They're all white, all middle aged, professional."_

"_What about age?" They all knew it was the hardest to pinpoint but they needed to put an estimate._

_Reid tilted his head, his hands moving through the air before he spoke a word. "Middle aged, although it's unusual for someone to begin killing in their middle age. There's always a possibility that he's killed before somewhere else and it hasn't been picked up."_

"_He would need to be strong. These men aren't exactly small and they like to look good, so probably work out."_

"_All three have gym membership," Garcia interrupted. "I can't tell you how often they used it though."_

_Morgan took a sip of his coffee and pulled a face. "Are we looking at a team? If we're talking about abduction and then murder, it would certainly suggest more than one person involved."_

"_The methods of choice would also be more productive with two, "Prentiss suggested. "If you're going to feed someone salt, they're going to fight it."_

"_I think we're all in accord on that," Hotch said. "So we flag the possibility that we have a killing team? One middle aged, one younger?"_

_The team nodded in agreement. _

"_Something still doesn't feel right," Rossi mused, unsure what was bugging him so much about the profile. _

"_You want to hold off, Dave?" Hotch asked, turning to look at his friend, his impatience at how little they had achieved, palpable to everyone._

_Rossi shook his head as he closed his notebook. "Nah. I just feel like we're missing something. Nah, just go with it. This is just a preliminary profile. The more hits we get the easier it will be to narrow down the suspect pool."_

"_J.J, let Deputy Newstead know that we'll brief his team in the morning," Hotch instructed, noting that his team were getting restless. "We can meet again over breakfast and run through it. In the meantime, how about we get some dinner."_

_Emily pulled a face at the thought of food. The previous evening's dinner had brought forth a flurry of nightmares, not to mention discomfort and she didn't want to impose that on her body in a hurry. "Is there anywhere else to eat around here?" she asked the room in general. "Anywhere?"_

_Hotch allowed himself a small smile at the look of concern on his colleagues face. He had to admit dinner had been pretty awful the evening before but he had rarely seen Emily look so horrified about food._

"_I'll go check." Morgan disappeared for a few minutes, finally returning to the small conference room that had been their home for several hours. "We have options apparently, aside from the diner, and I'm guessing we want to avoid a repeat of that. . ."_

_There was a mumble of agreement as they all remembered the previous night._

"_Well there's a drive through Bonanza Burger, which prides itself on the Bonanza Burger." His lips quirked up into a grin at the look on the faces before him. "No, okay, there's a Chinese come Thai come Vietnamese restaurant at the bottom of Main Street, and a pizza place. The Chinese is edible allegedly but the locals tend to drive the thirty minutes into the city."_

"_Well, in lieu of the fact the whole team is in serious danger of a coronary if we stay here many nights, how about I drive and shout you all dinner," Rossi offered, sliding off the desk, and picking up his jacket. "Hotch?"_

"_I don't know . . ." They were in the middle of a case and while he didn't mind them taking dinner breaks, they usually talked shop and remained in the vicinity of the police department. _

"_We can stop at the first restaurant that looks edible," Rossi suggested, knowing that good food was essential in keeping the team morale up. "Eat and head back to the hotel."_

"_It's just appearances . . ." Hotch argued._

_Emily and J.J. shared a knowing look. Hotch was wavering but often times couldn't switch off from being the boss so sometimes it took a little intervention._

"_We have cell phones," J.J. said, raising her satellite phone in the air to demonstrate the point. "And pagers." She crossed the room to stand next to him, her smile widening as she stared up at him. "Garcia and the deputy can track us down in minutes if something comes up." She gave him her most earnest expression for good measure._

"_And we have a laptop," Emily added, gazing at him, giving him her most flirtatious smile. It only worked about ten per cent of the time but it gave them all lightness on the darkest of days. "We can be back in thirty minutes. Less if we let Morgan drive." _

_Morgan shot her a glare. _

_Hotch glanced between the two women and knew he was being played but these were moments that made his team the family that they were. "Okay," he relented with a mild smile. "Let's go, before Reid and Morgan get in on the act."_

_The women smiled at each other and secretly high-fived as they followed the men out of the room towards the cars._

"_I'll drive," Hotch offered, holding his hand out for the keys. "And follow you, Dave."_

_-------------------------_

_They returned to the hotel after what had proved to be a lively and entertaining Italian meal, loitering in the lobby as Hotch and J.J. checked for messages, before moving towards the elevator. _

"_You coming up?" Hotch asked, as David bid them goodnight and moved towards the bar. _

_He shook his head. "I'm going to grab a drink." He'd had one drink all night, acting as designated driver. Now that he only had a few steps to take until bed, he fully intended to indulge in the top shelf. He watched as the others filed into the elevator after their boss._

_Less than an hour later, he watched, smirking, as Emily walked across the bar and slid into the empty seat beside him._

_David Rossi turned to look at her. "Couldn't sleep?"_

"_Just felt like a drink."_

_Rossi raised his hand to the bartender and indicated his drink, waving two fingers._

"_Scotch?" she queried surprised._

"_If you're not going to sleep, you'd better learn to drink the real stuff," he offered, lifting his own glass to his lips._

_They sat in silence, intermittently sipping their drinks, conversation stilled as they tried to pretend it was normal for them to be alone drinking in a bar._

"_Are you going to tell me what's keeping you awake, Emily?"_

_Swivelling on her stool, she focused her attention on the older man. "The need for alcohol."_

"_If you didn't want to talk about it you could have raided the mini bar," he offered, his dark eyes catching hers and holding her with an intensity that profilers seemed to acquire. _

"_I thought about it." She paused, debating whether to tell him about the nightmares or draw him back into silence. She chose the latter. "Do you realise how difficult this all is for a woman?" Her hands moved through the air as if to emphasize what all this was. "I spend my days trying to get in the minds of serial killers. And my evenings alone. It's not the biggest turn on for any guy. And the few dates I do get to go on, well I'm not very good at."_

_Momentarily he looked surprised, his eyes searching her face for sincerity. Eventually he settled for listening. "Well it's not the flirting, you seem to have that down pat."_

_She raised her eyebrows at him, pleasantly surprised that he noticed. "I spend my time trying to find their flaws, making conversation that doesn't make me seem . . ."_

"_You're dating the wrong sort of guys."_

"_Yeah, the dating pool is so big I have a variety of options," she grumbled. "Most of the time I'm too over tired to give a damn about anything other than collapsing in bed."_

_Dave raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up in a smile._

"_Alone!"_

"_And then you can't sleep," he finished. _

"_Yeah, so occasionally I need a drink."_

_Rossi sought out the bar tender and ordered another round of drinks. "Well it's probably good you don't want to talk about it. I'm not exactly the relationship counsellor around here."_

"_You've probably had more dates than me in the last six months," she snorted, shifting position to avoid his gaze, knowing that they were on unfamiliar territory. _

_David Rossi, BAU, author, womaniser. He knew what they all thought of him, but only he knew how wrong the were. He certainly wasn't without offers but after marriage number three fell apart he began to rethink his life plan. A fourth wife didn't seem like such a good idea, and casual affairs weren't really his scene. There was also the possibility that one sexual encounter would lead to yet another woman chasing his money. And then there was the job. It wasn't so easy for a man in the FBI to date either, and dating your co-workers was practically illegal. Not that he hadn't thought about it, when he was lying in yet another hotel room, alone and unable to sleep._

"_I wouldn't be so sure."_

_Her eyes studied him, trying to read what he wasn't saying. _

"_You know the dreams don't mean you're failing," he said, his voice almost inaudible. "And they certainly don't last forever."_

"_Who said anything about dreams?" she scoffed, taking the last few sips of her drink._

"_We've all been there. I've been there. When you're ready to talk about them you should talk to Hotch."_

_Emily wanted to laugh. Hotch was the last person she would ever admit to having a weakness with. _

"_Or Reid, or J.J., or Morgan," Dave continued, his eyes darting to glance at her. "Or me."_

_David Rossi had surprised her since the first day she had met him, and this night was no exception. What surprised her more was the fact she wanted to talk to him. "Okay."_

"_Okay. Do you think you can sleep now?" Dave asked, pushing his glass across the bar and throwing notes on the side. _

_Emily shrugged. She really didn't want to go back to her room, knowing that sleep would be evasive, but she couldn't sit in the bar alone. Reluctantly, she rose to her feet and followed him through the bar to the elevator. _

_Dave pressed the button for the fourth floor and they stood in silence waiting for the car to arrive. Momentarily he would glance in her direction, wondering what her demons really were. _

_They stepped into the elevator, standing side by side. Twenty years earlier he would have kissed her, twenty five years earlier he would have stopped the elevator and pinned her against the wall. With age came sense. Or at least some modicum of._

"_Would you like a night cap?" Rossi asked, his fingers lightly resting on her arm as they stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the rooms they had been assigned. _

_Emily shook her head, propriety and common sense kicking in. "I'm fine." She gave him a small smile. "Goodnight, Dave."_

"_Night, Emily." He waited for her to disappear into her room and the door to shut quietly behind her before he entered his own room._

______________________


	6. Chapter 6

_**I hated writing this chapter but it's a means to an end. I'm not a criminal psychologist so the facts may not be right but I needed it to work for the story. **_

_**Title: An Honourable Man**_

_**Pairing: Emily Prentiss/?**_

_**Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up.**_

_**Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this.**_

_**Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode four so anything up to there is fair game.**_

_**Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way. **_

**Part Six**

David Rossi was beginning to wonder if it would ever stop raining. He'd awoken to thunder at six am and the downpour still hadn't ceased, if anything the rain was falling heavier. He turned with a sigh from the window and returned his attention to the small squad room. There was an air of anticipation that engulfed the room with the troopers all expecting to hear a profile that would identify the killer within hours. Unfortunately he knew that would be replaced with frustration as soon as they realised there wasn't some kind of miracle resolution.

"We have a preliminary profile for you," Hotch announced, positioning himself in front of the white board. "I stress that it's only preliminary, based on the evidence we have so far. As more information comes in it may adapt but hopefully it will help to rule out possibles." He glanced around the room, his eyes briefly pausing on each officer. "We're looking for a team. Based on victimology one is probably in their forties or fifties and more than likely white. The sadistic nature of these killings would also indicate that he'll have a record for assault or battery in his youth. Chances are it was early enough in his youth to be sealed."

Morgan unfolded his arms, ready to take over. "He's middle class, white collar and office based, probably unsuccessful in his job, you'll find he's missed out on promotions, maybe has some anger issues. More than likely he has moved around from job to job a lot."

"This doesn't mean he's a loner. Anger-excitation killers are often married with families and are social butterflies," Rossi interjected. "Think Ted Bundy. It's someone who people feel comfortable enough with to talk to or even go with. We don't know exactly how our three victims went missing but there are no indications that they were abducted publically or initially went unwillingly."

"The second unsub is young, in his twenties, certainly no older than thirty, and white. When you find him there will be a connection to the older one, whether it be family, or a mentor. The connection means that he'll do anything to prove himself to the older one," Emily continued, her body posture matching that of the four men around her."

"Generally in these killing teams there is one dominant partner and one subservient. The two people meet and develop a chemistry that moves them to torture, rape, murder," Reid explained, his hands moving through the air in time with his words. "With each kill the subservient subject is honing his method, learning how to please the dominant partner and how to get satisfaction from his own kills." He paused briefly to allow his words to catch up with his brain before deliberately continuing, "He's learning how to improve his kill but the problem is with each kill they need another because the satisfaction decreases not increases."

There was a momentary silence as the group acknowledged the sentiment behind the words.

"This killing team may be newly formed or it may have been successfully operating for a while but they are organised," Rossi announced, taking a step forward and commanding the room, his tone emotionless as he profiled the two nameless, faceless men who he was sure would kill again sooner rather than later. "They are not selecting random victims. Each is followed, their routine memorized and the appropriate time selected. Each of these men has disappeared and the people around them barely noticed."

Emily positioned herself against the desk and waited for him to pause. "Not to mention that there have been no reports of the abductions. The location was chosen to lure these men with little fuss and to lead them into a false sense of security."

"Once they have their victim they torture them and prolong the agony. All the while telling them what they are going to do. For the anger-excitation killer it is the torture which brings the satisfaction and the look of fear in their victim's eyes. Finally it no longer does it for them and that's when they kill them."

"In the case of these three victims it is a slow painful kill, maximising the derogation. Five days may not seem a lot but I can assure you in the case of what is happening to these men it is a lifetime," Hotch said, only too aware himself of how a short time can feel like an eternity. He'd painfully experienced the abduction of his own team members on too many occasions. "When it becomes time to dump the bodies the disposal site is already selected. Chosen because of their location, remoteness and the lack of connection to our unsubs. This team also have somewhere safe to torture and kill their prey without fear of being discovered but it's somewhere they can get to everyday because they need to be present and witness the full extent of what their inflicting."

"They are leaving no forensics so either they are experienced at this or have learnt pretty quickly," J.J. offered before returning to her note making. The profile was not part of her remit instead she was busy working on preparation for her press conference.

Morgan dug his hands in his pockets as the cadence of the profiling continued. "The time that passes between kills will decrease because with each kill the excitement level is lower. The team will always need another victim. So we're looking at more abductions."

"What about the media?" someone asked finally after the voices of the team had been the only sounds for nearly an hour.

J.J. tucked her phone back into the pocket of her pants suit. "I'm going to hold a press conference later today. Let them know that we're working on the principle that these three deaths are linked and that we're looking for one or more perpetrators. It may also serve to warn potential victims." She glanced hesitantly at Hotch, hoping he wasn't going to change his mind about her proposal. "We want to give out a tip line number."

"There may be victims out there who haven't come forward. Men who have been approached but walked away. It might jog their memory. There are no certainties with these things and you will get lots of false leads but we have gotten results this way," Hotch elaborated, drawing the briefing to a close. "My team is going to give the same profile to the metro police and sheriffs offices later today."

"And then we what? . . . Wait?" Trooper Newstead asked, already knowing the answer.

Hotch nodded silently, not willing to give the worst case scenario - that they waited until another victim was found.

_______________


	7. Chapter 7

It's been a while but life has been busy. On a more positive note the next two chapters are ready to post.

For those that dislike the Rossi/Prentiss pairing it's probably time to stop reading.

_**Title: An Honourable Man**_

_**Pairing: Emily Prentiss/David Rossi**_

_**Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up.**_

_**Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this.**_

_**Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode twenty-two so anything up to there is fair game.**_

_**Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way. **_

**Part Seven**

_The day had started as every other day had since they had touched down in Seattle three days ago. Rain had provided the early morning wake up call, echoing against the window panes like nails on a glass floor, looming dark clouds punctuating the sky as the team walked the short distance from the hotel to the small conference room that had become their work space. There had been a brief respite with bright sunlight streaming through the windows as they drank the freshly percolated coffee J.J. had pilfered from the hotel. Garcia's light-heartness lifting the mood as they indulged in a few minutes banter before returning to the grimness of the case. Despite her many talents, she had nothing new to share with them and the mood darkened once again. Hotch rubbed his face with his hands before once more looking up at his team and dispatching them again to follow up interviews and visit crime scenes for a third time. They had hoped that the unsubs would revisit the dump sites but that no longer seemed likely, instead they all knew what it would take to solve the case._

_The rain had stayed at bay for the rest of the day as the team went about their work but by mid afternoon they had exhausted everything they had and were no closer to linking the profile to any viable suspects. Hotch had paced the small conference room, his frustration evident in his furrowed brow and heavy footfalls. As much as he wanted to keep working, and hated to declare defeat, it wasn't getting them anywhere and the team were as despondent as he was. After a brief discussion with Trooper Newstead, and assurances that they wouldn't give up, he had called the team and told them to call it a day. Few had protested. In his heart he knew that the only way they were going to get new leads was if another man went missing and in all likelihood someone would in the next few days. It was a sentiment shared by them all._

* * *

_As soon as Dave had hung up on Hotch and passed on the news to Emily, they had headed back towards the hotel. The city seemed less depressing in the sunshine and they had opened the windows, enjoying the fresh air and clear skies. As they left the city, tall skyscrapers and concrete were replaced with the green spaces and family homes of the suburbs. It was an all too brief reminder that life went on as normal. _

"_Do you think we have time to stop?" Emily asked, sitting up straighter as her eyes caught sight of the small strip mall up ahead._

_David turned in his seat to look at her, his voice laced with amusement. "You hungry?" _

"_No, I could just do with picking up a few things," Emily acknowledged hesitantly, never one to want to admit she wasn't perfect. She also wasn't quite as organised as she pertained to be, having run out of shampoo that morning and knowing in a few days that she would need Advil and a few more personal items. They were going to still be in Seattle, of that she was sure, but she wasn't sure she'd get another chance to do something as normal as shop. _

"_Okay." He indicated and pulled into the small parking area, finally parking a few feet from the stores and switching off the engine. "Here okay?"_

_As she started to climb out, she stopped and turned to look at him sincerely. "You need anything?"_

"_Like?" he asked, his tone revealing nothing but his grin widening as his mind flew to the long list of embarrassing products he could send her in for._

"_Those, you can buy yourself," she retorted, pulling a face, "or borrow from Morgan." As much as she had come to appreciate her team, there were certain things she really didn't want to know about them, or at least areas that for the present moment could remain a mystery. "Shampoo? Toothpaste?"_

_David shook his head and watched as she disappeared into the drug store, wallet clutched against her chest. Grinning, he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, intending to rest for a few moments. It wasn't so much that he was tired, more exhausted and emotionally drained. Coming back to work had been the single best decision he could ever had made, but his body was starting to protest that he wasn't twenty-five anymore and that five hours a night wasn't nearly enough. _

_After a long day briefing fellow officers and conducting interviews, the team had shared a late dinner in the diner the previous evening, sharing a few beers and discussing serial killers. It wasn't the most suitable conversation over meatloaf and creamed potatoes but it was what they had become accustomed to, and enabled them to avoid more personal probing. Somehow he had drifted into the hotel bar, hoping and expecting company and when she had arrived they had sat up until 2am talking. He was starting to enjoy other people's company again but it had taken a while, and had not been without minor incidents, or moments of discomfort. Spending time with Emily was leading him to question himself and he wasn't entirely sure what it meant or if he was even comfortable spending so much time in the company of one woman. He was also starting to slip around her, resorting to Emily instead of Prentiss whenever they weren't in the company of others. As good a profiler he was, he wasn't willing to delve deeper into his own psyche for fear that the churning in his stomach, as they walked down the corridor to their rooms each night, could lead him to one night overstepping the mark._

_Emily said his name gently then more forcefully, startling him and breaking into his reverie. _

_David raised one eyebrow in question as he took the tray of coffee, and placed the two Styrofoam cups into the holders. _

"_I thought we might need it for the ride home." She opened the rear door and placed a sack on the back seat before climbing into the front._

"_Got everything?" _

"_Yep, even picked up Garcia some kitsch pens and some candy for J.J.," she replied, pulling the seatbelt across her body. "Did I wake you?"_

"_Just resting my weary eyes."_

"_I can drive if you want to rest," Emily offered, with a shrug, moving to unbuckle her belt._

_He rolled his eyes. "No, no way."_

"_It was once, Rossi, once," she grumbled, her tone laced with exasperation. Wishing that they would all just forget about it._

"_Once is enough," he smirked, sipping his coffee, grimacing as it burned his lips._

"_Yeah, so guys are telling me."_

_He allowed himself a small smile, choosing to return to their disagreement rather than making a comment that would undoubtedly lead to a silent ride home. "It was a ditch, Emily, and the tree, well it came pretty close to my window."_

_There were so many things she could have reminded him of, like the fact they made it back onto the dirt road, or that they had managed to avoid a head on collision by mere inches. Or that it wasn't her fault that the truck that neglected to remain in his own lane but she didn't because he wouldn't have cared anyway and it was kind of nice that they had something to tease her about. She muttered something under her breath. "Fine, but maybe you should take a nap before dinner, old man."_

"_Old Man, eh?" He glanced tentatively in her direction, relived she was gazing out the window. _

_She shrugged nonchalantly, oblivious to how her lips were quirking up into a smile._

_David allowed himself a small smile. There were so many ways he could prove to her that he wasn't so old and past it, all of which inappropriate but any one of them providing definitive proof._

_

* * *

_

_The sun was shining in the sky and the streets were relatively busy as Hotch and Morgan walked back to the hotel together. After checking in with each of his team member, he had effectively closed down the office for the day. Although for him, that didn't mean the working day was over, just that a change in location seemed appropriate._

_The hotel lobby was practically empty when they walked through and it only took a few minutes for Hotch to check for messages and then they were riding up in the elevator. "You want to grab some dinner later?" Hotch asked, sifting through his messages with one hand and juggling papers and his briefcase with the other._

_Morgan shook his head. "I'm going to head out for a run, see if there's a little more to this town." Whenever they were on a case they ate the wrong things, barely slept and spent far too much time together. It wasn't that he wouldn't lay down his life for anyone of them, it was just that at times it reminded him of rainy afternoons trapped indoors with his sisters. So once in a while he liked to disappear on his own, take a break and work out. Sometimes he did press ups or sit ups in his room, or used the gym in the hotel. For once the rain had stopped outside and he had decided to make the most of it and take a run._

"_The town or the locals?" Hotch asked, looking up, his face revealing little of his tone. _

_Morgan grinned back, leaving the question unanswered._

"_Later?"_

"_I'm going to get an early night, Hotch."_

_Hotch lips formed in a grim line. He hated the fact they weren't working but with no new leads and the witness list exhausted, they had decided to take a break and start afresh the next morning. "I might do the same. See you at seven." He stepped out of the elevator and made his way down the corridor to his room. Digging in his briefcase he pulled out his room key and clicked the lock just as the sound of voices floated down the hallway behind him._

"_We're going to dinner, want to join us?" Rossi asked, one hand pressed on each of the young women's backs. "Chinese, tonight."_

_Despite the fact he had just made the same offer to Morgan, Aaron found himself refusing. "I think I'm going to make some calls. See what my son's been up to." His lips involuntarily quirked up into a smile at the thought of his son, faltering as he contemplated yet another missed weekend visit._

"_Want us to bring you back something, boss?" J.J. asked, her own mood lifted by the few minutes she had spent listening to Henry's babbling. "A little Kung Po or some noodles."_

"_Anything is fine," he said, finally opening the door and stepping over the threshold. "Have a good time."_

_Dave's lips twitched up into a smile. "Do want me to go over the case. . .?" his voice trailed off as the vehement shaking of Hotch's head. "Okay." He gently guided his two companions forward. "We'll drop the food off in about an hour or so."_


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry it's taken a little longer to update but deadlines and holidays got in the way. Feedback and suggestions always appreciated._

_Title: An Honourable Man_

_Pairing: Emily Prentiss/David Rossi_

_Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up._

_Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this._

_Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode twenty-two so anything up to there is fair game._

_Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way. _

_**Part Eight**_

"_Would you like a night cap?" Rossi asked, repeating his nightly offer, his fingers lightly resting on her arm as they stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the rooms they had been assigned. _

"_I've probably had enough," Emily admitted, dispelled a little by the churning in her stomach. She knew she hadn't consumed enough to be drunk but enough to feel slightly queasy in the morning, neither of which accounted for how she was reacting to the circular movements of his finger tips._

"_Don't you ever do things you shouldn't?" he asked, his eyes seemingly shining as he gazed straight at her, although it could have been the strange lighting in the corridor or maybe the effects of the whiskey._

"_Not so much." She continued to hold his gaze, understanding finally why she had gone to the bar again, compartmentalising what they were about to do with what they did every day._

_Rossi opened his door and stepped back, his fingers gently coaxing her to enter. Common sense should reign him in, he knew but sometimes it was the little things that mattered. Like the way she brushed her hair from her face when she was nervous or the little looks she gave Hotch which bordered on a crush but more likely were her way of searching for acceptance. Mostly when he thought about Emily he thought about their arguments, loud and demanding and then the silence that followed. They were too alike in many ways, which might be why it had taken them so long to reach this point._

"_What we're about to do is against the rules," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she brushed her bangs unnecessarily from her face_

"_What we're about to do is nobody else's business," he acknowledged, his voice more forceful than he had planned. He paused, wondering if he was pushing for something that wasn't there. "I can walk you back to your room."_

_It took her a second to close the door behind her before she was cupping his face and kissing him, breathing foregone in favour of silencing him. His beard tickled her, not unpleasantly, as she continued to kiss him, her mouth more demanding as he surrendered control to her. She could feel his fingers in her hair, smell the familiar woody cologne, her senses heightened at the sound of a low moan as his hand slid down her back and cupped her backside, tugging her against him. It wasn't her most romantic encounter but one thing that was evidently clear was that he wanted her, and maybe needed her as much as she needed him. Common sense and any reservations that she still had disappeared as they became caught up in the moment, one kiss merging into another, the exploration of their hands quickening with their increasing confidence. As they finally broke for air, Dave's lips quirked up into a self satisfied smirk and she knew that what would follow would become a battle of wills. Needing to knock him off his game, she bit her lip coyly before she gently ducked her head and her lips began to trail their way across his jaw and down his throat, leaving a wet trail as her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt._

_He mumbled something incomprehensible before he guided her mouth back to his, his hands holding her flush against him as he guided them towards the bed._

_They fell, somewhat unceremoniously, on the bed as his ankle caught on the frame momentarily shifting his balance, and she clung to him as they toppled, and landed, her body firmly pressed onto his, their foreheads knocking together. _

_He laughed then, throaty and without reservation, taking her by surprise. _

_Emily lifted her body up, allowing her weight to rest on her hand, staring down at him, her expression one of confusion. "Dave?"_

"_I used to be so much better at this," he confessed without even a hint of embarrassment._

"_You mean you normally have this planned down to the smallest detail." _

_Dave gently removed his hand from her hair and cupped her face. "I hadn't planned on seducing you, Emily. But generally I do things with a little more finesse."_

"_I didn't come here for finesse," she admitted, her eyes casting hesitantly around the room, planning an escape. _

_Maybe he should have been hurt by her words but he knew better than anyone how damaged she was, and how she didn't always mean what she said. He wanted to ask her why she had come to his room but he knew the answer, understood her reasons probably better than she did. There was also the possibility she would run, the moment lost and their future relationship one of awkwardness and lost opportunities. Instead he kissed her, gently brushing her lips, inviting her to continue what they had started, trying to dispel the fear he now witnessed on her face._

_What he lacked in finesse, Emily had to admit, he made up for in other ways. His lips grazed hers and she found herself once again plundering his mouth, her tongue hungrily demanding entry, fighting for whatever control existed. _

_Dave allowed her a moment of control, wanting to give her what she needed, his fingers, he hoped, coaxing her to allow herself to feel too, to connect on some level she fought so hard against._

_The gentleness with which he caressed her face, the nervousness in the way he ran his palm along her side was driving her to frustration. She needed him to speed up, she didn't know how to deal with the pleasantries of sex. Once it was over there would be time to deal with regrets and her own needs. Her fingers moved to the front of his shirt and she began to grab at his buttons again, almost pulling them from their thread as she tried to get him undressed. _

"_Emily," he said softly, his hand gently pushing her away. "Slow down."_

_She stopped abruptly, pulling away and wondering what the hell she had done wrong._

"_I'm not complaining," he offered matter-of-factly. "It's just I'm not a wham bam thank you kind of guy." As his fingers continued to cup her cheek he locked her legs with his own and rolled them until she was flat on her back and he was half laying on her, half hanging onto the bed. Leaning in, his lips barely caressed the edge of her mouth, his eyes seeking hers intensely. "It would be easy to just screw you and walk away but I think you're in need of something _more."

_"Don't analyse me, Dave," she chided, trying but failing to move from under him._

_Rossi kissed her again, this time capturing her mouth, his tongue teasing at her lips. "You're sexy as hell," he moaned against her lips. As she opened her mouth in protest his tongue darted into her mouth, grazing the roof of her mouth before he kissed her again._

_Emily took a sharp intake of breath, silently damning him as they stared at each other. Not only had he taken back control but her body was responding to him against her will. "Who has the room next door?" she asked for want of something to say, other than to beg him to fuck her._

_He stopped kissing her briefly, his mind struggling to focus on anything but the taste of her. "J.J. Why?"_

_It could have been so much worse, she decided in the second before she felt his beard tickle her neck, just below her ear. "No reason."_

_"Could it be you're a screamer?" he asked mock-seriously, provoking another battle of control and his almost ending up on the floor. Dave grabbed at the comforter, raising himself to a sitting position. He glanced down at his shirt and smiled at the disarray, before unbuttoning his cuffs and tossing his shirt across the room._

_Emily stared up at him, her eyes locking with his as she felt the bed move again as he removed his shoes and socks and shifted position until they were laying side by side._

_Dave kissed her casually, almost as an after thought, watching the confusion fleet across her eyes, before kissing her again, diverting her attention as he slipped a hand beneath her top, his fingers brushing against soft silky skin._

_He was driving her crazy, and not in the way she wanted. Slow and gentle was going to be the undoing of her if she wasn't careful. Abruptly, she pushed his hand away and sat up, his shock replaced instantaneously with a look of something all together more inexplicable as she lifted her top over her head, and slipped her hand around her back to loosen her bra._

_Assessing the situation and correctly analysing the woman before him, David reached up and flipped the switch plunging the room into semi darkness, the single bedside lamp the only light in the room, highlighting the contours of her body._

_Dave settled himself back against the pillows and smiled as her bra joined her blouse and her trousers followed seconds later._

_"Thank you," Emily said, settling herself back on the bed and running the palm of her hand across his chest. Her fingers continued to move downwards as she leaned in to kiss him again. "Now there seems to be a little discrepancy," she whispered, her fingers beginning to work their way to the zip of his pants._

_He mumbled something incomprehensible as he shifted position giving her even better access, as his fingers lightly stroked her face._

_If she had been in a frame of mind to think she would have contemplated what she was doing, making love with her colleague and technically her senior, but overanalysing was another one of those things on her list of not to do again, so kissing him again she deftly readdressed the imbalance between them._

______________________


	9. Chapter 9

**Part Nine**

_She wasn't sure what had awaken her, only that she was hung over and distinctly naked, certainly two things that she rarely was during a case. Shivering, Emily opened her eyes, intending to reposition the covers, instead she found herself staring at the sleeping form of David Rossi. It all came flooding back and she inwardly groaned, closing her eyes briefly in the hope it would fade away. Unfortunately, when she opened them again, he was still laying on his back beside her, snoring softly, the sheet somehow wrapped around his waist leaving his upper torso exposed. _

_Carefully, she lifted up the ecru cotton sheet from her own body and slipped almost silently out of bed. The man beside her sighed and rolled on to his side, settling himself back against the pillow. Emily froze, her hands moving unconsciously and fruitlessly to cover her body, her eyes searching the room for something to hide behind. When he didn't wake, she began to pad around the room, collecting her clothes, separating what was hers from what was his. It didn't take her long to get dressed, the urge to be gone before he awoke too strong. Emily ran her fingers through her hair one more time, confident she looked almost professional if she met anyone in the corridor, her eyes flickering between Dave's sleeping form and the only exit. She had almost made it to the door when he propped himself up on his elbow._

"_What no breakfast in bed?" he asked, his voice devoid of embarrassment and his smile evident in his voice. There had been too many women in too many hotel rooms in his past to be concerned with what happened next or even with how the night had gone. The only difference was that he had actually enjoyed the night's activities and was hoping for an encore, although convincing her would be a whole another challenge._

_She turned and shot him a killer look. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but good sense told her to keep her mouth shut and get out of there as fast as she could._

"_I'm just saying if you wanted to avoid the awkwardness just remember in a few hours we'll be working together." He sat up further in the bed, the sheet pooling around his middle._

"_I don't really know what to say," Emily admitted. The only saving grace in the situation, she had concluded as she stood there staring at her half naked colleague was that they were both discreet. Of course up until the previous night they had also been professional. Her thoughts briefly wandered to new adjectives to describe them._

"_Thank you for the wonderful sex would go a long way." Dave watched her, anticipating her quickly she would flee, his own concerns masked with amusement._

_Her mouth opened but no words came out, the goldfish impression bringing forth yet another chuckle from him. _

"_Or David, this was a mistake and no one can ever know about this," he offered seriously, the smile dissipating in favour of a frown._

"_I thought that was a given."_

_He shook his head. "I think maybe we should have quelled our urges until we got back to DC, but sometimes a little spontaneity is good for the soul." He waited a beat, hoping he didn't need to convey his meaning in sentences rather than words. "As for secrecy being a given, it is. This is between us, not because I care what people might think, but because I know it's what you want."_

"_Thank you." Emily offered him a small tentative smile. As awkward as the whole incident was she couldn't help but be distracted by the small fragments of memory that she had._

"_No, thank you."_

_She stood poised, her hand on the door knob as she glared at him smirking self satisfied at her. "Dave," she offered in warning, his name sounding all too husky._

"_So, I'll see you at breakfast."_

"_Try not to look so . . . So . . ."_

_Dave waited for her characterisation of him, finally throwing back the covers and placing his feet firmly on the floor._

_Emily knew she was blushing, knew how stupid it was after what they had done, but she couldn't help herself as he rose to his feet and her eyes remained drawn to his naked body. _

"_I'm going to take a shower. Stick around if you want to," he said, smirking at her, as he walked straight passed her and into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. _

_Her hand lingered on the door knob as she heard the faucet splutter to life and Rossi's humming increase in volume. She couldn't resist smiling nor shaking her head at the image that danced across her brain. "I'll see you in the coffee shop for breakfast," she called finally, detaching herself from the simple moment of domesticity and opening the door. Once beyond the door her FBI instincts kicked in and she found herself checking the hallways and listening for signs of her colleagues moving about. Satisfied that she was safe, she darted down the corridor and slipped into her room._

______________________


	10. Chapter 10

_Title: An Honourable Man_

_Pairing: Emily Prentiss/David Rossi_

_Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up._

_Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this._

_Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode twenty-two so anything up to there is fair game._

_Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way. _

_**Part Ten**_

_The coffee shop was virtually empty as Reid and Morgan dragged two tables together and the team gathered around them for breakfast. They had found that it was easier than trying to conduct a scheduling meeting across the room or in the small confines of the conference room. The staff for the most part left them alone, intermittently serving on them and retreating to the kitchen. _

_The conversation so far had been stilted as they each found themselves lost in their own thoughts, another early morning and no semblance of resolution making them all a little testy. Sometimes it was safer to hold back than to initiate a conversation, profilers engaging in the one thing they were not suppose to do - profile each other._

_A waitress appeared with a fresh pot of coffee and earned herself a few appreciative smiles and mumbles of thanks. She hovered to take their orders then blended back into the background._

_J.J. glanced sideways at her friend and frowned. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper._

"_Just tired," Emily offered, giving her a friend a small smile, her hand running subconsciously through her hair in silent acknowledgement of her lie._

_J.J. nodded in acknowledgement that they were all tired. She turned her attention to the rest of the team, focusing on the Unit Chief. "I've had three calls since I woke up asking for updates and twice as many missed calls while I was in the shower."_

"_You need to stall them," Hotch stated, his tone firm but accusatory._

"_Yeah," she replied flatly, neither surprised not upset by his reaction. "Which is why my cell is on silent."_

_They lapsed back into silence with the arrival of food and a waitress. She left as quickly as she had arrived, leaving them to return to the days agenda._

"_Does anyone want some of these pancakes?" J.J. asked, holding up the platter._

_Morgan helped himself, loading them up on the side of his plate. _

"_I have a theory," Emily announced, finally pushing her plate across the table. She wasn't sure her stomach and food were going to be compatible for some time to come and her mind was working in overdrive. "Something last night got me thinking."_

_Rossi, to her left, almost choked on his coffee, his recover a little less smooth than usual. "Sorry."_

_J.J. to her right did a double take, looking between her two colleagues and hiding her grin behind her cup._

"_We've been looking at this as a revenge thing. Killing men because they have everything the unsub wants - rich, successful, single," Emily continued, her eyes focusing anywhere but on her colleagues for fear they would read her. "But what's bothering me is how he lures them. It's unlikely they're abducted with force because the evidence tells us so. And these guys aren't going to head off with a total stranger."_

"_Where are you going with this?" Hotch asked, his own meal discarded as he focused on the newest profiler._

"_It came to me last night. A woman, our unsub is a woman. Or at least one of them is. Probably young, very young," she added bitterly, "flirtatious, and cute as a button. Most guys probably can't resist the come on, the fluttery eyelids, hanging off every word, and before they know what's hit them, she has them."_

"_Seriously, Em, you need to start dating different guys," Morgan said, pulling a face, wondering had truly bad her dating history was. _

_Rossi put down his coffee, this thoughts momentarily drawn to who Emily was dating before darting back to the case. "She might be right. This hasn't profiled right from the start. A woman in distress, an attractive one at that would certainly explain why these men . . ."_

"_Women aren't generally serial killers and if we're talking about killing teams then it's mostly men," Reid emphasised. "Between 1600 and 2003 only 17.6 percent of female serial killers acted with an accomplice, the rest acted alone."_

"_I think we can safely say she didn't do this alone," Hotch acknowledged quietly. "So we're back to a family connection or mentor."_

"_Father and daughter? Mother and daughter?" J.J. asked. _

"_Why not? My mother in laws weren't adverse to torturing the hell out of me," Rossi mock grumbled. "Seriously though the older one may have been doing this for years until she lost her looks. That's if we are talking about two women."_

_Hotch punched in a number on his phone and barely waited to be connected._

"_Oracle of all knowledge."_

"_Garcia, look for unsolved cases involving the abduction of men going back twenty years in Washington," Hotch said. "Upload it to the state police here." _

"_Rossi rubbed his beard. "Check the surrounding states, maybe West Coast. Chances are she's moved around a fair deal otherwise someone would have picked up on the pattern."_

"_Good, I'll speak to the locals see if anything jogs their memory, Morgan and Prentiss, go back to the crime scenes and ask specifically about women. I'd imagine women down hunting tracks is unusual."_

"_Reid and I will recanvass the areas they were last seen see if anything comes up," Rossi announced, his eyes moving briefly to Prentiss, wondering if she was ever going to look him in the eye again._

"_We'll meet back in the station at one and go over what we got," Hotch concluded, signalling the waitress that they were ready to go._


	11. Chapter 11

Title: An Honourable Man

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/David Rossi

Rating: M for now, but not sure where it might end up.

Summary: It was just another case, just another broken resolution, that brought them to this.

Spoilers: I've only seen up to series four episode twenty-two so anything up to there is fair game.

Author's Notes: I've never written Criminal Minds Fan fiction before I have loved the show since the first episode. I've written 'Waking the Dead' and 'West Wing' fan fiction before so this seems like a natural progression. I tend to write a few chapters then post one so it may take time to update but it also means I can take on suggestions along the way.

**Part Eleven**

The team liked to be productive, for some it was more than a need, it was a necessity to be able to do the job and more often than not, make it through the case. When things didn't go quite as well there was chocolate or scotch, or in some cases sex provided an outlet for stress. If the interviews that morning were anything to go by there were going to be one sex addict, two alcoholics and two very overweight FBI agents in the near future. The agents had re-interviewed every colleague, friend and family member of each victim and had only returned with two new pieces of information - none of the men had been dating anyone new and each of them was a testament to the fact chivalry wasn't dead.

The team had met again over coffee and sandwiches, sharing the little information they had and revising the profile, coming up with more questions than answers. Afterwards they had all separated, the confines of the room and the building proving too much for all of them, fresh air, fresh tasks and fresh coffee providing a lure to the outside world.

" . . . well, I can't give you anything conclusive, Director. They will take another victim," Hotch stated, his tone one that barely concealed his impatience. He glanced around the room, his forehead furrowing as he noted the obvious absence. "Well, they have a revised profile, . . . Yes, Director." He hung up abruptly. "Has anyone seen Dave?"

They all looked up from the scattered files on the table and shook their heads in unison.

"I called him on his cell, but it switches to answer phone," J.J. offered, glancing down at her cell as if it was about to ring.

"Bad cell reception?" Emily asked casually, her thoughts momentarily returning to another time, a missing team member and two days of hell .

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" Hotch asked, his face laced with confusion and a little concern. He was closer to Dave than anyone and generally he could pick up when the older man was in trouble or needed to talk. The signals had been missing this time, and if anything he had seemed lighter than normal when he left a little over an hour ago.

"He said he was going for a walk after the briefing," Reid offered helpfully. "He didn't say where but there are only so many places he could go."

Aaron Hotcher's brain went into overdrive. It wasn't like his friend to ignore a call and he wasn't the type to disappear in the middle of a case. "J.J. try his cell again," he ordered, his tone one of urgency.

J.J. pulled out her cell again and chose speed dial one, waiting impatiently as it went straight to answer phone. She shook her head, knowing that something was wrong. "Sir, it's J.J., please call me when you get this message."

"You sure he's not just getting air and some peace," Morgan asked, trying to reign in some of the panic that was now sweeping the room. It wasn't that they were prone to over reaction, it was more that they had each been in situations before that had escalated, and the gut reaction was normally right.

"This doesn't feel right." Hotch began to pace the room, suddenly feeling they were a step closer to the unsub if only for the wrong reasons. "We need to find him. Morgan, get the locals in on this. Find out if anyone's seen him, or taken a message."

Morgan rose to his feet and purposefully strode from the room, the door swinging on it's hinges in his wake.

"What do you want me to do?" Emily asked quietly, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend what was happening, her fingers rubbing against the buttons on her cell as she wondered if he would pick up if she called.

Hotch turned to look at her as if suddenly remembering the team were all there. "Start going over the files, his notes, his room. His disappearance can't be a coincidence, obviously he found something or they decided he was their type. J.J give her a hand." He turned back to the board, his focus now on finding Dave with what they already knew about the unsubs.

J.J. sat for a moment longer before quietly rising to her feet and moving around the table. "Are you okay, Em?" J.J. asked, standing over her, her face revealing little.

"Yeah," Emily offered dismissively, her fingers still toying with the cell phone.

"Because the walls are pretty flimsy . . ."

Emily suddenly looked up." J.J."

J.J. shrugged, her lips tugging up into a brief smile. "It's none of my business but if you need to talk, I'm around."

"How much. . ." she trailed off as suddenly as she had begun, an image of Dave she never thought she'd have springing to mind.

"Enough to know the hype is only half the story." J.J. patted her on the shoulder as she opened her cell, pressing speed dial and leaving another message. "You want me to help you with his room?"

__________________

The room was dark and damp and if the smell was anything to go by, had been used recently for laundry. Rossi felt like an idiot, knowing all that he did and letting himself get in such a position. His first thought when he'd seen the smashed window was to check that the young woman was okay. He'd even offered his cell phone for her to phone the police. It had been seconds before his brain had connected the dots and it was already too late. The street that had been deserted moments before was busy with pedestrians and the gun in his back told him that shouting would only lead to someone getting hurt and not necessarily him. Instead he had allowed them to lead him to their vehicle, in which he had become bound and gagged. The blow to the head had been as unexpected as it was unnecessary as he lay constrained on the floor of the van.

Rossi lifted his hand to the back of his head and the lump he knew was forming there. It was then that he opened his eyes and tried to figure out where he was.

"You took a fall, sugar."

The accent was southern, the tone mature and mellow. Rossi tried to adjust the light and the unknown voice, trying to pick up on nuances that he could later use for leverage. "Where am I?"

"Would you like some water?" she asked, her words muffled by the creaking of wood.

His throat felt like sand paper from where the gag had rubbed against his tongue, his saliva drained as he had tried to swallow. As much as he needed a drink he knew what they were capable of, what might be lurking in the depths of the clear liquid. Rossi shook his head, raising his head slightly and catching her silhouette against the door .

"Suit yourself, sugar," she said raspily, her voice lingering long after she had left the room.

With the clunk of a latch, he sank back to the floor, only too aware that he was well and truly in the shit.

___________________

"What about surveillance in this town?" Hotch asked, his eyes seemingly boring into the young trooper as they stood before a large street map. The town seemed even smaller on paper and it was hard to imagine how anyone could just disappear, which was not helping with the anxiety levels of the three remaining agents in the room.

"There's one inside the store, another facing the ATM." He shrugged nonchalantly as he pointed to two squares on the map. "We don't really have any call for it. We're a small town."

As much as Reid wanted to remind him that they were a small town where the bodies of three men had been dumped, it seemed more prudent to keep his mouth shut, and try and be productive. "What about speed cameras on the intersection?"

"We have one in the car."

Reid brushed past the officer as he stomped out of the door. "I'll see if I can pick up the tapes."

"Guys, his phone is still switched on," Penelope announced, her disembowelled voice accompanied by the light clicking of keys. "About a mile from where you are. The signal's pretty strong."

"Morgan, you're with me. Garcia, send. . ."

"Already done, Boss."

The two men ran from the building, heading towards the one spot they knew Dave had been, their behaviour attracting little or no attention as the inhabitants went about their business. The insistent sound of ringing drew them closer until they saw it, the cell hanging amidst the foliage.

Hotch dug in his pocket for a glove and picked it up. Using the latex he pressed the keyboard and answered.

"Dave," J.J. asked, her voice momentarily filled with relief.

"It's Hotch."

She faltered, her eyes darting to her friend, who had stopped her ransacking of the room she had only hours before been lying naked in. "Have you . . .?"

"Just his phone."

She shook her head. "There's nothing here. His notebook is gone. No sign of his gun or credentials. I don't think he's been back here since this morning."

Emily lifted the trash can from the corner of the room, a subtle blush covering her cheeks as she noted the one solitary item.

"Hotch wants us back at the office," J.J. announced, hanging up the call and stepping closer to her friend. "He wants to start canvassing the neighbourhood. You okay?"

Emily nodded. "Let's get out of here." She returned the bin to the floor with a thud.

* * *

Time seemed to standing still as he listened to the dripping of a tap against porcelain. Dave blinked his eyes and tried to rise to his feet, stumbling as he tried to combat the numbness. Once upright, he adjusted to the room, the ceiling barely inches above his head, the only cracks in the darkness coming from the door where his captor had left earlier. He was certain it was a cellar, a laundry and by the fact he was no longer bound, a long way from anywhere. A washing machine occupied one corner near the sink and a tin bath along another wall. He had read the autopsy report and he knew exactly what the bath had been used for, He also knew how long the team had to find him before it was too late. The only consolation was that so far they hadn't used the same method twice and he had been a marine, trained to withstand torture. The only problem was that was a long time ago, instead he would have to keep his wits about him and sustain his energy levels. Satisfied that there was nothing else to learn from the room he made his way to the centre of the room, sinking back to his knees, his attention focused on the doorway. They would be back he knew, probably not together at first and probably not until they were ready but then the game would start and he would need to be ready. In the meanwhile there was nothing else to do but let his thoughts wander and he found himself smiling for the briefest second as he remembered why his guard had been down, the smile turning to a grimace as he contemplated the words he had not said.


End file.
